


Relative Sins

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [45]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, Masturbation, Multiple Sex Positions, No Incest, Oral Sex, Regency, Smut, So much smut, Stepmum lust, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Warning: Smut Ahead, all of the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 00:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Draco knows he shouldn't be thinking of his stepmother while wanking but damn if Princess Hermione wasn't the hottest little thing he had ever seen. Plus she certainly had not minded when he had walked in on her bathing, instead, she dismissed all her servants and made Draco dry her body. Also, Lucius was probably too old to keep up with her stamina, wasn't he? Written for Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook Forbidden Fruit Fest!





	Relative Sins

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [TheForbiddenFruit](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TheForbiddenFruit) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> _Draco knows he shouldn't be thinking of his stepmom while wanking but damn if Princess Hermione wasn't the hottest little thing he had ever seen. Plus she certainly had not minded when he had walked in on her bathing, instead dismissed all her maids and made Draco dry her body. Also, Lucius was probably too old to keep up with her stamina wasn't he?_  
>  **Major requirements:**  
>  _Dramione end game_  
>  _Hermione not be portrayed as a helpless princess married against her will( even though that is what she is) but as a seductress not intimidated by much of anyone._
> 
> **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**
> 
>   **A/N: Please note this is a strange Regency AU thing. Thanks to my wonderful beta, Elle Morgan-Black! And the lovely Vino Amore made the awesome aesthetic!**

   


* * *

Draco Malfoy sighed as he leaned back onto his silken green pillows and slipped his hands into his loose-fitting pyjama bottoms. His cock was hard and aching and needed relief. His stepmother had just pranced through the corridor in the smallest, tightest, sexiest fucking gold negligee he had ever seen on a witch. And then she had the audacity to wink at him. He watched her from the shadow of the alcove his bedroom door was located in, with hooded eyes as she made her way from her chamber and into his father’s. He’d never wanted to be his father so much as he did in that moment. Gods, how he wished that hot piece of arse was walking into his room instead of his father’s. All thoughts of leaving his room for a midnight snack had fled as he rushed back toward his bed.

He cupped his balls before sliding his hand up his length. He knew this was wrong, but swiped his thumb across the tip of his straining cock, already wet with pre-cum. He pulled his hand out and gave it a lick, tasting the saltiness of his come. Then dove it back underneath his trousers to grasp his length again. He pulled on his cock as he thought back to the week before. The week that had started this whole mess.

_Draco was running late. He’d just left the Quidditch pitch and was due to meet his friends at the pub for a pint. He sprinted up the stairs of Malfoy Manor to the family wing. The Manor was old, and none of the bedrooms had an attached bath. They were all communal. He preferred the one closest to his room, furthest from his father’s room because it had a larger shower._

_Stripping his clothes as he went, Draco pushed open the door to the bath and stopped in his tracks. His stepmother, Princess Hermione, was bathing in the tub in what he considered as his bathroom._

_“Hello, Draco,” Princess Hermione said. She flicked her hand and the house-elf who was attending her left with a small pop._

_“Oh, Stepmother, I…” Draco trailed off as Princess Hermione stood._

_The bathwater glistened off her skin and sluiced down her body. Brown, damp curls were piled on her head, although a few pieces had fallen to cling to her neck. And further down, Draco couldn’t stop himself from watching a bead of water slide down her glistening chest, between her perfect, juanty breasts, across her flat stomach and get lost in the small nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. He licked his lips. Draco had taken off his shirt in the hallway and now dropped it in shock. His balls tightened at the sight in front of him and he could feel all of his blood begin to flow toward his groin._

_“Fuck,” Draco muttered as Princess Hermione beckoned him closer. He was helpless, he had to move toward her. He crossed the marble floor of the bathroom, unable to take his eyes off the woman in front of him. Wishing she was his and cursing himself, knowing she could never be._

_“Would you…” she trailed off and gestured elegantly toward the pile of towels lying on a bench near the bath. Draco nodded mutely. He grabbed a soft, white towel without taking his eyes off of the magnificent creature in front of him. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes and his own widened as he watched her pink-brown areolas harden in the cool air of the bathroom._

_His groan was audible and he could feel himself flush. How embarrassing, moaning and groaning like a schoolboy at the sight of a breathtaking witch. He cleared his throat and vowed to look at his stepmother’s face. The wicked smirk she sported told Draco she knew exactly what she was doing, and it didn’t help Draco’s arousal. If anything, he grew harder. Gods, how he loved a witch who knew what she was doing in the bedroom._

_“Dry me?” she asked. Her voice all innocence and purity. But the look on her face was devilish and maybe even cruel. It certainly felt cruel to Draco to be forced to touch her delicious body through the thick terry cloth of a towel, when he so longed to run his hands over her smooth skin._

_Draco nodded and wrapped the towel he had been holding around her shoulders. He gave her shoulders a few pats before moving along to her arms._

_“Oh, I think you can do better than that, can’t you?” Princess Hermione hummed into his ear. He hadn’t realized she’d leaned so far forward. He pulled back and found her face right next to his. Her whisky-colored eyes were sparkling mischievously. Draco thought he was going to come right then and there. Her voice was low and husky and did enchanting things to his insides. He shuffled closer to the tub and rubbed her captivating body through the towel. Drying first her shoulders and arms, then her back._

_His gaze dropped to her breasts again. And what glorious tits they were. Perky, round, firm, with stiff nipples pointing right toward him. How he wanted to taste one, to lick his tongue all around and pull it into his mouth. He wanted to know what her skin tasted like._

_Princess Hermione cupped her left breast and offered it to Draco, pushing it toward Draco’s face, “Would you like a taste?”_

_Draco groaned audibly once more. She was literally going to kill him. He was going to die right here like some sort of pervert. Lusting over his stepmother. He fled then. He couldn’t take anymore. He dropped the towel and turned his back, before dashing out of the bathroom and to his bedroom two doors down._

Draco tugged and pulled hard and fast as he imagined what it would be like to have licked Princess Hermione’s nipple. Just imagining that hard, tight bud in his mouth was enough to make him come. He growled out his pleasure as his hot seed burst forth and coated his hand and stomach. He gave himself a few more tugs, each releasing a little more.

 _Fuck_ , he groaned to himself. That was the fifteenth time this week he had wanked over his stepmother. It had all been fine until he had caught her in the bath. Of course, she was a hot little thing, and he wasn’t all that surprised when his father had announced his intention to marry her, despite her being Draco’s own age. Draco had attended school with her, but they ran in different circles. Vastly different. She was Princess Hermione Granger, an honest-to-god princess, of the Muggle sort. But still, a princess. He wasn’t even a Lord, although his father was in the magical world. Draco wouldn’t earn a title unless his father died or he did something impressive enough in the Queen’s eyes. And considering Draco only planned to play Quidditch and fuck willing witches for the next few years, he’d be waiting quite some time for that title.

It didn’t matter, Draco shook his head. He needed to get his stepmother out of his system. He should go to the pub tomorrow. Find some amenable, compliant witch to shag. He was sure he would be able to forget Princess Hermione in no time.

* * *

Draco was sweating as he pumped his hips in and out, in and out of the witch beneath him. He was taking her from behind, her hair was suitably brown and curly, reminiscent of his stepmother’s. _No,_ he couldn’t think of her. He wouldn’t. He shook his head as he gripped the hips of the witch in front of him tighter, fucking her harder.

“Draco…” she moaned and turned her face to the side.

Draco closed his eyes. He couldn’t see her face. If he didn’t see it, he could pretend it was Princess Hermione he was pounding. _Dammit_ , he couldn’t get her out of his head. He wanted to come, desperately. But every time he came close, all he could think about was how it would feel to be fucking her, how sweet her cunt would feel around his cock. Tight, warm, impossibly slick as it welcomed him home. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Draco thought as he bent over the witch and reached forward to get a handful of tit. It was small, too small to be Princess Hermione’s he thought. He squeezed his eyes tighter, he was close, so fucking close.

“Mmm, Draco,” the nameless witch below him moaned again.

“Shut up,” Draco hissed and he pushed her face in the mattress. She was ruining it. She was ruining this moment for him, he was there.

 _Gods, fuck, Merlin, yes,_ Draco thought as his orgasm swept through him and he emptied himself into the witch. He rolled off to the side, his eyes closed as the witch snaked a hand across his chest.

“That was good,” she muttered and Draco scowled.

It was fucking terrible. He’d tried, for ages, to get off, but the only way he was able was by thinking of his stepmother. He rubbed his face. He was a sick pervert. And fucked. Was he doomed to spend his life thinking of his stepmother everytime he wanted a release? Gods, what a miserable life that would be. He rolled out of the bed and began hunting for his clothes. He had to get out of here.

“Going so soon?” the witch asked. She rolled over and stretched languorously.

“Er, yeah, sorry. I’ve got a thing,” Draco muttered as he pulled up his trousers and began searching for his shirt.

“At two in the morning?” she lifted a sardonic eyebrow.

Draco wished he could remember her name. He hadn’t been paying attention in the pub, he’d just seen her hair and figured she’d do.

“Yeah, it’s an early morning for me,” Draco replied. He leaned over her on the bed and kissed her forehead. “Thanks, it was fun.”

Then he was out of her apartment and walking down Diagon Alley toward the Apparition point. Draco had never felt so fucked in his life.

* * *

Draco couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d just stepped out of the fireplace in the sitting room, having Flooed home from the pub. And there was Princess Hermione, facing Draco, straddling his father, naked as the day she was born, and bouncing on his father’s cock. His father was facing away from Draco and all he could see was the back of Lucius’ blond head. Princess Hermione had her hands wrapped in his long hair. The back of the settee blocked most of their movements, but Draco could see the perfect bounce of his stepmother’s flawless breasts.

“Gods, Lucius,” she moaned and Draco knew it was wrong. He _knew_ it, but his cock didn’t want to listen. It hardened anyway. Lucius’ head bent to take one of Princess Hermione’s nipples into his mouth. His stepmother threw her head back and moaned, arching herself into her husband and Draco realized he had begun cupping himself through his pants at the erotic sight before him. Princess Hermione’s curly brown hair flowed down her shoulders and bobbed in time with her movements. Draco could only imagine what it would feel like to have his hands wrapped in that hair. To have the mouth that was currently screaming his father’s name to be screaming his instead.

Draco shook his head. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be watching this and he definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as he was. He hurried out of the room as quickly and silently as he could, hoping neither caught him. When he was in the hallway he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to be a deviant. He didn’t want to feel so depraved. But he couldn’t help the thoughts that were running through his head in regards to his stepmother. He didn’t know if his father noticed, but Draco had. He could barely stand to be in the same room with her.

At breakfast that morning, Princess Hermione had mimicked sucking a cock with her banana. Lucius had his head buried in the morning paper, but she’d sucked and sucked on that banana, staring Draco down all the while. When Draco stood abruptly to excuse himself, she’d winked at him. Gods, what was that witch doing to him? And why? He couldn’t figure out her motives. Was it just sex? Lucius was quite old, and Draco could understand if Lucius didn’t have the stamina to fulfill Princess Hermione’s needs. Although, from the way it looked in the sitting room, old Lucius was doing just fine.

“Fuck, witch.” The low growl interrupted Draco’s thoughts. He winced as he imagined that was his father coming. Not something Draco ever wanted to think about.

Draco hadn’t moved away from the sitting room and was leaning on the wall next to the door, stroking himself through his trousers. He had to get out of here before he got caught. He re-adjusted himself and took off at a light jog for his bedroom. Clearly, he was going to need to wank before bed.

* * *

Draco was idly flipping through a magazine in the family sitting room when he heard the door bang shut. Looking up, he was mildly surprised to see Princess Hermione in the room with him. He’d been avoiding her for weeks after catching her fucking his father in this very room. He had even made sure not to sit on the same couch they had been on and had chosen an armchair instead. His stockinged feet were propped on a low footrest. He turned his gaze back to his magazine, maybe he could get out of here before she noticed him.

“You’re avoiding me, Draco,” Princess Hermione stated.

She stalked toward him and Draco realized she was wearing an itty, bitty, diaphanous negligee again. This one was pale green and ended well above mid-thigh. It had a slightly ruffled top around her breasts and the shoulder straps fell purposefully off her shoulders. The entire thing was translucent. He watched as her breasts bounced and her nipples hardened under his stare. He was so royally fucked at the moment.

“I’ve been busy,” Draco replied and turned his attention back to his magazine. _Fuck, I do not want to have this conversation._

“Not that busy,” Princess Hermione frowned at him. Draco looked up and saw she was now standing right next to him. He looked back at his magazine quickly. She dropped a small hand to his shoulder and began fingering the collar of his shirt, brushing her digits against the skin of his neck. Draco closed his eyes as he felt his prick begin to stir.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, stepson?” Princess Hermione asked as she settled herself on his lap, straddling him just as she had his father not a meter from where they were currently sitting. She slid along his lap until her center was right above his rapidly hardening cock. Then she began rolling her hips. He was so fucked. Draco choked as he looked up to see her breasts practically in his face. On display for him. Merlin how he wanted to touch them. Taste them. Bury his face in them.

“N-No,” Draco stuttered, unable to tear his eyes from the glorious tits in front of him. He’d always been a tit man and Princess Hermione had the prettiest pair he had ever seen.

“Really?” Princess Hermione breathed as she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, thrusting her chest into his face.

“You shouldn't be here. You shouldn’t be doing this,” Draco growled as he gripped her waist with both hands and made to move her off of him. She rolled her hips again and Draco couldn’t stop the moan that slipped past his lips.

Princess Hermione pouted, “I just want to make sure my stepson loves me. Isn’t that what a _good_ stepmother does?”

Draco finally dragged his eyes up to her face. She had that mean, evil looking smirk on again. The one that told Draco she knew exactly what she was doing.

Draco exploded, “You are my age for Circe’s sake!” He tried to move her off of him again, but she wasn’t budging. Draco didn’t want to be too rough with her. He knew he could push her off and leave her in a pile on the floor. But he didn’t want it getting back to his father that he was rude to his stepmother. Her fingers played in the ends of his hair, distracting his thoughts.

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” Princess Hermione pouted. She rolled her hips into Draco’s and Draco couldn’t help but tighten his hands where they rested on her waist. His cock was hard, and he knew she could feel it. He could feel her heat through the thin fabric of the lacy negligee she wore. He tried to stop it, but he couldn’t help but thrust his hips into hers. She whined in response. Fuck he should not have done that. He was never going to get that look of sublimeness she had on her face out of his head.

“And you’re fucking my father. You’re his WIFE, and he’d kill us both if he saw this!” Draco insisted, renewing his resolve to push her off him.

“I know. I saw you when you caught us, you know?” Princess Hermione smirked then licked her lower lip, bringing it between her small white teeth in a bite.

Draco moaned out loud, again. Gods, how he wanted to be the one biting that lip. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“And if my father were to walk in here, right now?” Draco asked, glaring at her once more.

“You’re a smart wizard. I’m sure you’d figure out some lie to tell him. Besides, I’m just a lowly witch, too stupid to know anything, really,” Princess Hermione said.

Draco wasn’t fooled though, he could see the look in her eyes. She was plotting something. And he thought it had to do with him. He didn’t want any part of her plots. He stood up abruptly, and she had to scramble to keep from falling.

“I don’t want whatever you are planning. Stay away from me,” Draco growled and stormed from the room.

He immediately headed to his own room. He had to get her out of his head. Maybe his father would let him move out. That’s what he should do, discuss with his father about reopening the townhouse in London and moving out. Plan set firmly in mind, he opened the door to his room. It was blissfully quiet. Just what he needed.

He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. Willing himself to sleep, to stop thinking of his stepmother. She was wicked and evil and he wanted nothing to do with her. It was a mantra he repeated over and over and over again as he fell asleep.

_“Fuck,” Draco said as he pounded into the witch before him. She was bent over the bed, he was taking her from behind and Draco couldn’t see her face._

_“Gods, Draco,” the witch whined. Draco thought she sounded like Princess Hermione, but that couldn’t be right. He was shagging the girl from the bar. That’s what he was dreaming about. It had to be what he was dreaming about._

_“Touch yourself,” Draco commanded._

_The witch immediately complied, her right hand left the bed. She braced herself with just the left now. Draco watched as her hand disappeared, she cupped her breast first. Draco imagined what it would look like to see her pinching her own nipple and suddenly he wanted to see it._

_He pulled out of her swiftly. She grumbled a complaint, but quickly he flipped her over and set her on the edge of the bed and entered her again. Then he caught sight of her face. It was Princess Hermione._

_“Oh, Gods,” Draco muttered. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be shagging her. And he definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as he was._

_“Touch yourself,” Draco said again._

_She did. He watched her fingers pinch her pretty, pink-brown nipples until they were hard and taut. Draco tightened his grip on her hips as he changed the angle. The witch below him keened and he watched with slitted eyes as she sucked two fingers into her mouth and then slipped them down between her legs. She began brushing her clit in time with his thrusts and Draco lost all control. His orgasm was coming at the strength of a speeding train and he couldn’t stop himself from hammering into her wildly. Her tight cunt gripped him perfectly, sweetly, and began to pulse as her own orgasm shattered over her. It was enough and Draco buried himself in her as his cock exploded with his seed._

Draco woke up sweating, with his right hand grasping his dick tightly, pulling, pulling, _pulling_ on it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco chanted as the memory of the dream washed over him. He was so close, so close to coming. He needed it, Merlin, how he needed it. He brought his left hand to his balls and began to roll them, soon they tightened and he was coming, spurting his seed and moaning Princess Hermione’s name.

He growled at his inability to forget that witch and rolled over, falling asleep again.

* * *

Several days after his last encounter with Princess Hermione, Draco slipped into Malfoy Manor library. Draco didn’t often go into the library, but today he was feeling restless. Ever since Princess Hermione had moved in, it had quickly become one of her favorite haunts. So Draco steered clear. The farther away from Princess Hermione, the better. She was scary. Sexy as hell, but scary too. Draco did not want to cross his father. And dipping his wick into his stepmother would burn any bridge between Draco and Lucius.

Entering from the second floor, Draco at first didn’t realize that the library was occupied. He liked this entrance, it was closer to his room, and closer to the wizarding history section, which was his favorite. And Princess Hermione preferred the main floor where there were tables and workspaces. He was browsing the books, looking for an old beloved one, when he heard the first moan.

 _Oh gods, not here too._ He padded quietly to the balcony to look at the main floor of the library. Princess Hermione was laying flat on her back on a table. Books, scrolls, and parchment scattered around and thrown to the floor in a clear hurry. Lucius was pounding into her. Draco’s jealousy and rage reared its head and he worked to stamp it down.

Princess Hermione seemed to be enjoying Lucius’ attention, but Draco bet she hated that he’d tossed all of her research to the side. One thing Draco did know about Princess Hermione from their time at Hogwarts together was that she was a bookworm. A meticulous researcher who seemed to care more about her books than she did her classmates.

Draco knew he should walk away, that he shouldn’t watch his father fuck his stepmother, but he couldn’t stop himself. He also knew he wouldn’t get caught. Not up here. His father wouldn’t look up and Princess Hermione’s eyes were closed as she gripped the table above her head. Lucius was merciless as he pummeled her. The whole table seemed to move and shake, but Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off of those perfect tits. The bounced and swayed in a hypnotizing rhythm.

Before Draco realized what he was doing, his cock was out and in his hand. He spat into his palm to smooth his passage and gripped himself again. This was wrong, so, so wrong. Perverted. Depraved. But the slide of his hand in time with his father’s movements was also magnificent. It felt good and dirty and wicked. He panted as he sped up his hand. In order to risk not getting caught, he’d have to finish at the same time and then fade away into the stacks.

He increased his pace again as he heard the moaning increase. He imagined it was him down there, fucking Princess Hermione into oblivion. Every utterance of ‘Lucius’, he changed to Draco in his head. Gods, how he wanted her. He didn’t know if he could keep himself away from her anymore. Especially, if he kept walking into scenes like this.

Draco’s orgasm washed over him suddenly. He bit his lips to keep from vocalizing the groan that forced itself out of his throat as he shot jets of his seed onto his hand and shirt. He stood a moment longer collecting himself, listening to Princess Hermione’s orgasm. When his father began moaning, he was disgusted with himself and slipped back through the stacks and to his room.

* * *

“Father?” Draco asked at breakfast the following morning. Princess Hermione wasn’t up yet, thank Merlin. He didn’t think too heavily about why she wasn’t up yet. About what would have kept her awake late enough to want to sleep in. Lucius on the other hand, woke at the same time every day. He was like a machine, sticking to his schedule.

“Mmm,” Lucius muttered behind the paper his nose was always buried in during breakfast.

“I was thinking about reopening the London townhouse and living there for a while. My Quidditch training —”

“I sold it,” Lucius muttered, interrupting Draco.

“What?” Draco stopped his train of thought. That didn’t sound like Lucius. What in the world was going on that he had _sold_ a property?

“I sold the townhouse, Draco,” Lucius finally folded down his paper and looked at his son. “I had a bad investment last month. I needed the cash.” Lucius pulled the paper back in front of his face.

Draco sat for a moment longer as confusion and worry began to seep into him. Why would his father have sold a property? What investment had gone so badly that Lucius suddenly needed millions of galleons? As Heir, he was expected to know the family investments and help his father handle them. Draco knew he had been procrastinating in those duties. Now he thought maybe it was time to take them up again.

* * *

Draco wandered the halls of Malfoy Manor aimlessly. He knew there was something he was supposed to be doing. Something he wanted to do, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what that was. It was the middle of the afternoon, and normally he’d be out playing Quidditch with his friends. But the weather was nasty, rain lashed the windows at the Manor and so Draco had opted for an indoor pursuit today. But what to do?

He wandered into the main floor of the library and came upon Princess Hermione, diligently researching something. Books, parchment, and scrolls were all scattered over the table she was working at. She was again dressed in an ethereal negligee, this one virginal white. Draco almost snorted. As if Princess Hermione could be anything virginal. He’d seen way too much of her to believe that.

Her head was bent close to the parchment she was writing on and the quill flowed across the page.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asked without looking up.

“No,” Draco replied and took the seat across from her. “What are you doing?”

“Research.”

“On?”

“It’s not important,” she dismissed him. She hadn’t even raised her head to look at him. He frowned. He didn’t like it when she dismissed him so casually. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That’s what he needed though. Lusting after his stepmother was a dangerous game. Better that she dismiss him than continue to attempt to fuck him.

Finally, she looked up, “Seriously, you have nothing better to do than stare at me? I realize I am ridiculously good-looking. Especially in this get-up,” she rolled her eyes. “But I’m busy. Run along now.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, how dare she treat him like that?

“And what should I be doing?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. What is it you Malfoy’s do? Manage money? Run your estate? Something.”

Draco felt a moment of clarity wash over him and then it was gone again. That’s what he was going to do today was look into his Heir duties. Figure out what had happened that forced his father to sell the London townhouse.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking over those duties from your father? You are the _Heir_ and all,” she scoffed.

“I am,” Draco said seriously as he thought furiously. Why had he forgotten that? It had felt so important at the time, and yet even now the thought was slipping away.

“So? Why aren’t you?” she asked.

“I keep forgetting,” Draco frowned.

She scoffed, “Fucking pure-blood ponce.”

“Woah! No need for name-calling!”

“I might have a title, but most of the people in my family work. And not manage their estates work, but actual work. My father is a general in the Queen’s army, my mother runs six charities. Six! And all you do is mope around your house and play Quidditch.”

“What about you then? What work are you doing?” Draco folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t want to admit, but she was right. He hadn’t been doing any sort of work.

“I’m taking an owl-away University course at the moment. On rare and ancient magic rituals.”

“Oh,” he hadn’t realized she was researching and working for anything other than her own pleasure.

“Why can’t you remember?” she asked him, looking up suddenly. Her eyes narrowed and Draco shrugged.

“I do, occasionally. Then the thoughts seem to drift away out of my grasp again.”

“You’ve been Confounded,” she breathed. “By whom?”

Draco shook his head. He didn’t know.

She whipped her wand out, “ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” she murmured waving her wand at him. Nothing happened.

“Try to think of your Heir duties,” she insisted.

He did, he remembered that the London townhouse had been sold and that he wanted to go to Gringotts and look at the accounts. He wanted to… go play Quidditch. Wait, that wasn’t right. He shook his head.

“It keeps sliding away,” he frowned.

“Then whoever cast it on you will have to remove it,” she commented.

Draco had a suspicion of who cast it on him. A most advanced Confundus charm had to come from Lucius. And even as he thought it, it slid away again.

* * *

Despite his resolve to begin his Heir duties, Draco successfully managed to avoid both Princess Hermione and his father for the following month. He was still procrastinating on taking on the Heir duties while he worked on getting over his stepmother. Nevermind that he awoke each morning with a raging hard-on. Nevermind that he wanked every day to the thought of her impeccable breasts swaying above him as he fucked her. Nevermind that he only sought out curly, haired brunettes when trawling the pubs for a new witch to shag.

It all came crashing down when he walked in on his father and Princess Hermione shagging again. Draco was sweaty and itching for a shower after his last pick-up Quidditch match. He jogged up the stairs of the Manor and headed for his bathroom. Since that time of catching Princess Hermione in the bath, he’d never caught her again. He hoped that meant she was giving up. What he wasn’t prepared to see was Princess Hermione’s body pushed against the glass of the shower wall as Lucius took her from behind. The bathroom was steamy and Lucius’ hair was wet and fell over his eyes. His large hands gripped her hips, helping to hold her steady as he pounded into her.

Princess Hermione stared directly at him as his father banged her. She moaned and bit her lip and Draco realized he was holding himself again. This was sick. It was wrong and depraved and perverted. He shouldn’t be turned on by watching his father screw his stepmother. Despite the fact that his stepmother was the sexiest witch Draco had ever laid eyes on. This tableau in front of him really shouldn’t turn him on.

Worse, he knew if his father just looked up, he’d catch Draco. Draco was now rubbing his cock through his Quidditch sweats. He’d barely stopped himself from thrusting his hand into his pants and grasping his bare dick. It had been a near thing.

“Draco,” Princess Hermione mouthed and she slid a hand down her flat stomach toward her groin.

Draco’s breathing increased rapidly as he watched his stepmother touch herself. Nevermind that it was his father’s cock she was currently riding, watching her touch herself as she looked him in the eye was the most erotic thing he’d seen. He almost came in his shorts right then. He managed to hold himself off, just long enough to flee the bathroom and sequester himself in his bedroom.

Draco could still hear Princess Hermione’s breathy moans and sighs in his ears as he fell asleep that night.

* * *

Draco was penning a letter when his bedroom door opened with a bang.

“Stop ignoring me,” Princess Hermione growled as she slammed his door shut.

He whirled to face her, his wand out and in his hand.

“Oh, put that away,” she laughed.

Draco gulped as he realized she was wearing one of her racy negligees again. This one black and lace and not covering nearly enough of her body.

“You need to leave,” Draco told her, his voice quivering only a little.

Princess Hermione laughed, “Not until I get what I came for.”

“And what have you come for?” Draco asked furrowing his brow. What did she want from him?

“To come,” Princess Hermione grinned lasciviously.

Draco groaned and closed his eyes. He’d walked right into that.

“You know I can’t make that happen. Go find my father,” Draco said dismissively and turned back to the letter on his desk.

“Your father is good, but I bet you’re better,” his stepmother said. Her voice was closer and he looked over his shoulder to find her standing almost directly behind him. He turned back to his desk, trying to concentrate on his letter. She threaded her fingers through his hair, and Draco tried to not preen under her touch. But it felt good, really, really good.

“I’m not interested,” Draco told her, coldly. Trying his best to ignore the sensations she was causing in him as she trailed her fingers over the skin of his neck.

“Really? Why is it you are always holding your cock when I’m around then?” Princess Hermione asked, her voice sending delightful tingles through him.

“I do not!” Draco shouted as he slammed down his quill. He closed his eyes tightly, willing to get himself under control. He had to get her out of his room. Maybe he should just move out. Find a flat to rent.

“You’re doing it right now,” Princess Hermione pointed out.

Draco glanced down and realized his left hand was holding his dick through his trousers. Again. Fuck. She was right. He moved his hand quickly and Princess Hermione laughed. And Draco felt his anger explode at the witch. He stood quickly and she backed away from him, a small smirk on her face.

“Leave me alone, dammit!” Draco shouted at her as he stalked towards her. She backed away slowly, but Draco kept walking towards her. Walking her straight into the door on the other side of the room.

“Now, you know you don’t actually want that,” Princess Hermione grinned at him, cocking her head to the side. She lifted her left hand and slowly slid the strap of her negligee off her shoulder. Draco watched with wide eyes as the strap slithered off her shoulder and down her arm, exposing more of her perfect breast to him.

“I do,” Draco insisted, even as he stepped closer to her. He lifted his right hand and slid the strap even farther down her arm, watching as the negligee plunged even further down, exposing her entire left breast to him. He traced his finger over her shoulder and down her skin until he was touching her breast. His touches were impossibly light, and he didn’t miss the fact that she arched toward him, begging him to use a firmer touch.

“No you don’t,” she breathed, her eyes never leaving his face. His eyes couldn’t stop watching his finger as it mapped the softness of her skin. And, oh, was her skin soft. Softer than he had ever imagined it. When his finger finally reached her nipple, she moaned and arched into him farther. He held himself back though. As much as he wanted to grab her tit and squeeze, have her wrap her legs around him, she’d been teasing him for months. He was going to take his time with her.

One time, he conceded to himself. He’d do this once and then leave for good.

“Do you like that?” Draco asked as he slowly swirled his finger around her areola.

“Yes,” she hissed. “More.”

“Demanding,” Draco tsked. He licked his lips and cocked his head to the side, flicking his gaze up to meet hers. Her eyes smoldered at him, he could see the satisfied glint they held.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Mmm, I’m not my father,” Draco began as he pinched her nipple lightly. “I won’t give in to your every whim and want.” He pinched and rolled harder and harder until she was gasping. When she cried out, he let go, giving it a flick with his finger.

“Please,” she begged.

“Maybe,” Draco said. He took his left hand and began to slide the strap of her negligee off her right shoulder, exposing her right breast to his view. Her right nipple had hardened as he toyed with her left. He smirked.

“You should do more begging,” Draco replied as he began stroking his left hand down her skin, eventually landing on her breast. He began twirling and skimming his fingers over the nipple and glanced at her face again.

Her head rested on the wall behind her, her bushy, curly hair a gauzy cloud around her head. Her eyes were closed and she was panting.

“Please, please, Draco,” she cried out as he pinched her right nipple.

“That’s rather ambiguous. Don’t you think?” Draco asked and stopped touching her. He stepped away from her and watched the look of confusion and doubt creep onto her face. That was good. That’s what she had been doing to him for months. Causing him confusion and doubt and untold amounts of desire.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and Draco watched as she flickered her gaze over him. He was hard and aching, and his cock strained against his trousers. Surely she had seen that. He watched as a look of resolve came over her face.

Princess Hermione took a step forward and grasped his shirt, tearing it to both sides as buttons went flying. She offered a brief smirk, then dropped to her knees. Her hands were on the placket of his trousers faster than he could think. Princess Hermione had him open and her cock in her mouth in a matter of seconds.

“Merlin, fuck,” Draco moaned as she almost swallowed him whole. Her mouth was warm and wet and felt like heaven around him. Gods, this was the best blowjob he’d ever had. He felt himself hit the back of her throat and then she swallowed and he almost came right then and there. Her left hand gripped his hip, while her right teased and caressed his balls, rolling them around. He wasn’t going to last, and by the Gods, he wanted to. He dove his hands in her hair, intent on pulling her off of him, but couldn’t stop himself from pumping his hips into her face a few times. Finally, he got himself under control and pulled her off of him.

“How was that for begging?” Princess Hermione asked sweetly. She was still on her knees, and her large, whisky-colored eyes were boring into him.

“Fuck, witch,” Draco growled and hauled her to her feet.

He grasped her arms above her elbows, her negligee fluttering to the floor as he slammed her into the wall behind her. He covered her lips with his own, immediately she opened her mouth and he dove his tongue into hers as far as he could. Tasting her, mimicking what he wanted to be doing with his cock. He released her arm with his right hand and grabbed her by the back of the neck, pulling her toward him. She molded her body to his and wrapped her arms around his neck.

With his left hand, he reached down and grabbed her by the back of her thigh, lifting it so she wrapped her leg around him. He ground his hard length into her bared core and she broke the kiss.

“I knew you wanted this,” she smirked triumphantly.

Draco glared at her. He was doing this once, he told himself over and over again. No more. He released her head with his right hand and lined himself up. Then he sank into her heat, swiftly, and grabbed the back of her thighs for leverage. Giving her no time to get used to his size he began pounding into her, burying his face into her neck. He was going to take his pleasure and be done. He had to be done. He was so intent on it that when she began to rhythmically seize her muscles, he didn’t realize she was doing it on purpose.

“Like that, eh?” she murmured into his ear and Draco could feel his orgasm coming. He tried to stop it. He didn’t want this to end on her terms. That’s not what this was about. This was about him doing this once to get over her. He stopped moving, still buried deep inside her.

“Stop it,” he hissed as he pulled his face back to glare at her.

“Stop what?” she asked, her voice sounding so innocent, but not matching that evil little grin she seemed to prefer. “This?” She clenched her inner muscles hard and long enough that it was almost too much, it hurt.

“Yes! Fucking stop it!” Draco fairly shouted at her.

She dropped the grin to a delighted smirk, “Does it feel good?” Her muscles clenching and releasing hypnotically.

“Fuck,” Draco muttered and gave the tiniest thrust with his hips. It did feel good. It felt very, very fucking good.

“That’s the point, darling,” Princess Hermione panted.

“This is wrong,” Draco grunted as he began pushing into her again.

“That’s what makes it so right,” she breathed. Her hands were wrapped around his shoulders, definitely leaving nail marks on his skin. He didn’t care. By Merlin’s sake, he didn't care, he just wanted to come and be done. He had to be done. No more.

His thrusts became harder and wilder as he drove himself closer to the edge. He wasn’t even trying to please her at this point. He was sick of her teasing, let her get off with his father. _Fuck, shouldn’t have thought of that_. And then she shouted her completion. Draco watched as she shattered around him, it was the most glorious sight he’d ever witnessed. She tossed her head back against the wall, her eyes fluttered and her nipples tightened as her slick channel gripped him with such strength that he was coming before he realized.

Stumbling, Draco let go of Princess Hermione. She crumpled to the floor. His thoughts seemed to clear and he felt horrified. He had just shagged his stepmother. His father’s _wife_. And it had been the best sex of his life. His father was going to bloody kill him.

“Oh, gods,” Draco moaned. He felt sick. This was not good. This was so bad that he considered packing a bag and leaving immediately. Maybe she’d go with him. How was he going to live without her now? Knowing she was out there, but untouchable by him?

“Well, that was something,” Princess Hermione commented as she slowly picked herself up from the floor. She flicked her hand, and her wand wiggled itself out of her crumpled negligee and into her hand.

“ _Prohibere Graviditatem_ ,” she muttered, pointing the wand at her abdomen.

Draco felt bile rise in his throat. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he could get his stepmother pregnant. _Oh fuck_. He was so far out of his depth here. He should just go. He couldn’t live in this house anymore.

“You have to go,” Draco husked. She had to leave, she had to get out of his room. She couldn’t get caught here.

“Naked? Or am I allowed to dress first?” she smirked.

“This isn’t funny! This is a fucking nightmare! My fucking nightmare! You have to leave! Now!” Draco shouted at her.

A blank mask came over her face then. “Of course, excuse me.” She twisted her wand and was dressed in the lacy, black negligee once more and flounced out of his room.

Draco sank onto his bed and held his head in his hands. His trousers were still around his ankles and his shirt was hanging from his shoulders. He couldn’t believe what had just happened.

* * *

Draco didn’t leave. He didn’t know if he was a glutton for punishment, lazy, or insane. Maybe a little of all three. He wanted to leave, desperately. He’d even packed his bag. He’d spent a few nights crashing at various friends places. Then a night here or there at the Leaky. And yet, ultimately, he couldn’t leave. He had to see how this played out. He had to know what Princess Hermione was up to. She was a mystery and he couldn’t understand her motives. And then there was that conversation he had with his father about the London townhouse. What happened that his father needed to sell it? Draco still hadn’t found out, but he needed to start taking up his Heir duties.

He had another successful two weeks of avoiding both his father and Princess Hermione. And then he walked in on them, again. This time it was at the breakfast table and if Draco didn’t know better, he was almost certain Princess Hermione had planned it that way.

“Fuck, yes! Lucius!” Princess Hermione shouted.

Draco closed his eyes. He should just turn around and leave. He should definitely not peek around the corner. But he did. And oh Merlin what a sight it was.

Princess Hermione was laid out like a banquet on the dining room table, naked and glorious as his father feasted on her cunt. Draco felt rage and jealousy flow through him so hot and quickly he almost choked on it. _Merlin, how could I have not tasted her?_

And that was when Princess Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows and caught him watching. She smirked. That damned, evil, knowing, smirk. Draco clenched his fists as his fury stormed through him. Then he watched as she orgasmed and Draco was once again witnessing to the most sublime vision he’d ever seen. At that point, his father stood and buried himself inside her. Draco had enough, he turned away from the scene and went back to his room. He wasn’t that hungry after all.

Draco laid on his bed, firmly ignoring the tent in his trousers. He wasn’t going to touch himself. He just wasn’t. That wasn’t the way to get over her. It had only been a few minutes since he’d witnessed his father eating her out in the dining room. Gods, how he wished that was him. He tamped down his jealousy. He couldn’t be jealous of his own father. That was the way to madness.

His door abruptly flew open and Draco was out of bed with his wand pointed out of the intruder in moments. It was Princess Hermione, of course.

“Leave me alone,” he groaned, still pointing his wand at her.

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” she smirked as she sauntered toward him. She knocked his arm out of the way and stepped into his personal space, placing her hands on his chest. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“That was the point,” he snapped. He should step away, push her away, but he couldn't. Instead, he dropped his wand and placed his hands on her waist. Her skin was warm, and she was still flushed from her interactions with his father. That should sicken Draco, the fact that she’d come to him straight from fucking his father, but it didn’t. He was a little turned on that she came to him, still reeking of sex.

“See, you want me,” she grinned at him, that evil looking glint back in her eye.

Draco growled at her. He hoisted her by his waist and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then strode from the room.

“Hey! Put me down!” Princess Hermione shouted and hit his back. It didn’t hurt.

Draco swatted her bum, “Enough of that. Unless you want my father to see you?”

She immediately quieted. Draco smirked. So she _didn’t_ want Lucius to know about this. That was interesting. He walked down the hall to his bathroom and deposited her in the shower. Then with a whirl of his wand, he locked the door and cast a few privacy charms. The bathroom echoed as he discovered from when he’d caught Princess Hermione and his father in here all those weeks ago.

Another wand flick and the water of the shower turned on, spraying Princess Hermione, even while she was still clothed in one of those damned negligees.

“Are you bloody mad?” she shrieked at him.

“I’m not fucking you with my father’s come still dripping down your leg. Wash,” Draco commanded. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

She stared at him for a moment, glaring. Draco smirked back at her. Then she tore the wet negligee off and began showering. Making the most delicious noises possible.

“Make sure to clean your cunt well,” Draco drawled as she let the washcloth dip between her legs. That got another glare. Draco did watch to make sure she cleaned herself well, and when she began to touch herself. Draco flicked his wand again and shut off the shower. Then he tossed her a towel and left the bathroom.

He didn’t care if she followed him or not. He was done being the puppy about this. If she wanted him, she would have him on his terms and only on his terms. Even as he thought this, Draco knew this was stupid. If his father found out what was going on under his nose, he’d kill them both.

Draco wasn’t disappointed when the door to his bedroom opened shortly after he himself had arrived.

“What the fuck was that about?” Princess Hermione hissed at him.

“I don’t do sloppy seconds, Princess,” Draco sniped back.

Princess Hermione’s eyes widened, and shockingly, her cheeks reddened momentarily, before she was able to get control.

“So, you don’t want to fuck me anymore, stepson?” she asked in that innocent voice of hers.

He glared at her, “Keep that act up and we’ll see.” He certainly wasn’t going to let her play him off of his father. He was done with that.

“There’s a reason you keep approaching me,” he said as he began to circle her. She had the towel wrapped around her and her hair was dripping down her back. He was glad to see he had pissed her off enough she hadn’t even bothered drying her hair or dressing. “I want to know why.”

“I like having a matched set,” Princess Hermione replied.

Draco plucked the towel from her and dropped it on the floor. “Tsk, tsk. Lying will get you nowhere with me.”

“You think you know me well enough to know when I’m lying?” she scoffed.

“I think all you’ve been doing since you arrived in this house is lie.”

“Do you think this was my choice, Draco? Do you think marrying a man twice my age was something _I_ wanted? Do you think I want to fuck your father? And what about you? I thought you were going to do something about the Confundus charm Lucius so obviously placed on you. Don’t you care about what happens around here? About how Lucius spends every knut and sickle he sees?”

Draco ignored her rant about his father and the Confundus charm. He had forgotten, of course, but he didn’t want her turning the tables on him. This was about her, not him. He had never once considered whether being married to his father was a choice Princess Hermione had made. It hadn’t even occurred to him to think about it. Why wouldn’t she want to be married to a Malfoy? Or was it the wrong Malfoy?

“Were you interested in the Heir instead of the Lord?” Draco asked. He sounded droll and bored, but he truly wanted to know.

“I didn’t want to be married at all,” she hissed. “I was top of our class at Hogwarts, you know? I worked myself to the bone to prove that I belonged in this world and the minute I was of age, my parents sold me off to the highest bidder.”

Draco blinked. He was surprised at her answer, and at her candor. And at how well she hid her feelings. He would never have known she felt such anguish and rage in her position.

He crossed so that he was facing her and lifted her chin with his finger so she was forced to meet his eye.

“So what do you want from me?” he asked.

“Take me away,” she whispered.

Draco sucked in a breath. Did she know he was planning to leave? That he had the same thoughts? That he too, knew this was an untenable situation.

“Why? Why me?” He couldn’t understand her motives.

“Because you would be _my_ choice.”

Draco didn’t like that answer. He wasn’t really her choice. He was just the only choice if she wanted to get away from Lucius. He hadn’t missed that she never left the house. He assumed that meant she was happy, but what if it was because Lucius wouldn’t let her leave?

“My father would never stop looking for us,” he said. His heart raced in his chest. Was he really contemplating this? Stealing his father's wife and taking her away? He wanted to. He’d never wanted anything more in his life.

Princess Hermione scoffed and turned her head, “Your father has plenty of other fuck-toys. He’ll be fine.”

Her voice was bitter and Draco was taken aback at that news. It was Lucius’ nature to fuck anything that walked by him, but how could he want anyone else when he had Princess Hermione at his beck and call? It boggled Draco’s mind. If she were his, he’d never dream of looking at another witch. He shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. You belong to him. You are his property. And Lucius does not part with his property easily.”

“I don’t care,” she spat. “I want out. And you are going to help me,” she growled at him.

“What makes you think I’ll do that?” Draco chuckled.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll go sobbing to Lucius that you made advances toward me. And that I was so confused and unsure, that I let you take advantage of me.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” She shrugged her shoulder lightly.

Draco was almost positive she wouldn’t. If she truly wanted out, wanted to be gone from Lucius, she wouldn’t dare do anything that would make Lucius even more possessive.

But, what if she did? What if she told Lucius how badly Draco wanted her?

Lucius would kill him.

Draco didn’t pretend to think his father loved him. His father loved power, money, and fucking in that order. Draco didn’t even think he ranked in the top ten things Lucius loved. Would he kill Princess Hermione too? Maybe. It would depend on how she spun the story. And Draco had seen her acting skills. She could spin a very good story.

He sighed, “Even if I could, which I can’t. Where would we go? Live as Muggles? Get jobs?”

Princess Hermione wrinkled her nose, “I can’t live in Britain in the Muggle world. I’m a member of the British royal family, who has effectively disappeared off the face of the planet for the last eight years. No, we’d have to stay in the wizarding world. But we could go somewhere your father doesn’t have much power. The States maybe? Australia? I don’t particularly care. But I can’t stay in England anymore. I just can’t.”

Draco laughed, “And you think we can hide from my father in the wizarding world? Get a clue, Princess. The wizarding world is _tiny_. And my father owns half of it.”

She shrugged, “So we hide in the other half. I’m to the point that I don’t care. Get me out of here.”

Draco rubbed his hands down his face. Every time she made that plea, he wanted nothing more than to take her away from here. It was insane and ridiculous though. How could they ever hope to hide from his father? And, if she was no longer caged at Malfoy Manor, would that mean she’d leave him? Draco’s heart almost stopped at the thought. The minute he had her out of here, what would be her impetus to stay? Nothing. She’d made no mention of liking or caring for him. No, she just wanted to use him for his ability to leave the Manor unhampered. And the amount of galleon’s in the Heir vault.

“I really don’t think I can do that,” Draco told her.

He watched her face crumble and her eyes well. He glared at her. “Don’t pull that crying shit on me, Princess.”

“Fine,” she whispered. Bending down, she grabbed the towel puddled at her feet and wrapped it around her again. Then she left his room without another word.

Draco tried not to be upset about it. He really did. It’s what he wanted after all. He wasn’t stupid; stealing Lucius’ wife would be a very bad move. They could never hope to hide from him. Could they?

* * *

Draco still hadn’t looked into his Heir duties. He knew he it was because of the Confundus but was it more than that? Was it something more insidious? Now that he was actually thinking about it, every time he went to go to Diagon Alley to visit Gringotts and review accounts, something else seemed to come up. _Oh, that sneaky fucker._ Lucius had placed some sort repelling charm. On what though? Diagon Alley? Gringotts? The Manor? Draco didn’t know. And he didn’t know how to get around them. As soon as he left the Manor for Gringotts he’d be rerouted. How to get around that?

Draco got around the repelling charms by owling Blaise Zabini. He got around the Confundus charm by thinking sideways about the Heir vault. If he focussed on the Heir vault, and not the issue of the accounts or the main vault, he was able to keep his train of thought. His plan was simple: tell Blaise exactly what he wanted to do, then met him in Diagon Alley so Blaise could remind him why he was there. Draco was both impressed and disgusted with Lucius. Obviously, something big was going on. Not only were there repelling charms around the Manor, but Diagon Alley, and Gringotts. Each place, he immediately felt the urge to go elsewhere, and Blaise had to drag him along. Once inside Gringotts Draco’s thoughts were clear and he knew now that he needed to see the family goblin.

Gorluk was small, even by goblin standards, but he was old, having managed Malfoy money for three generations. He waved Draco and Blaise into his office.

“Mr. Zabini doesn’t need to be here,” Gorluk sniffed suspiciously.

“Actually, he might,” Draco replied. “My father seems determined to keep me away from Gringotts and anything related to Heir business. Zabini had to drag me through the repelling charms my father put up in both Diagon Alley and in front of Gringotts itself. I don’t know where else he might have placed them. And that’s not including the Confundus he seems to have placed on me.”

“I see,” Gorluk said. He steepled his fingers and looked away, deep in thought. Draco wondered what the problem was. All he wanted to do was to begin reviewing Malfoy accounts to see if he could figure out what the problem was. He snapped his fingers and Draco blinked. His thoughts cleared. It seemed Gorluk had lifted Lucius’ Confundus charm.

“Thank you,” Draco nodded to the goblin. He wasn’t in the habit of thanking what was essentially a servant, but he was grateful. It would make his plan so much easier to not have to think around the Confundus charm.

“Your father will be punished, most severely for interfering with goblin business,” Gorluk finally said.

“Whatever,” Draco said. “I don’t care about any punishment you give my father. What I want is to review the Malfoy accounts and see what he is hiding from me.”

“That won’t be necessary. There is only one active Malfoy account left at Gringotts: your Heir account. Your father is unable to access it, and is furious.”

Draco almost fell out of his chair. “What?” he breathed.

“There has to be a mistake,” Zabini said.

“No, no mistake. Lucius Malfoy has a gambling problem. And a whoring problem. And a spending problem. Forty years of spending everything he could get his hands on was quite enough to drain the Malfoy vaults,” Gorluk explained. “Except the Heir vault, because he is not the Heir and cannot touch it, along with any active investments, which are held in trust. But he spends every dividend as soon as it comes in.”

“This is why he sold the London townhouse…” Draco said thinking quickly. He couldn’t believe his father had spent millions and millions of galleons. It was incomprehensible.

“And the properties in Milan, Hong Kong, Rome, Paris, and Dubai,” Gorluk added.

“He’s sold everything?!”

“Except Malfoy Manor,” Gorluk nodded.

“Holy fuck. How do I stop him? How do I gain control of the accounts?”

“You can’t,” Gorluk shrugged. “Unless your father dies that is.” The bloodthirsty grin Gorluk gave then, chilled Draco.

Draco stopped breathing. Could he have Lucius killed? Would it be worth it? The Heir vault was large, several million galleons, but Draco had been told the Malfoy family was worth near on a billion galleons. How could Lucius have lost it all? And what should he do about it?

“Seriously?” Zabini asked. “He just has to sit back and watch his father spend every knut that comes in?”

“That’s the way the laws were written. The Lord controls all until his death. Unless he abdicates,” Gorluk grinned and Draco felt uneasy.

Abdication or murder? Abdication would be better. But Lucius wouldn’t do that.

“And he can’t touch what’s in the Heir vault ever? What if he gets my stepmother pregnant?” Draco asked.

“Doesn’t change who the Heir is. Unless _you_ die.”

Would Lucius kill him? Draco didn’t think so. Unless Draco did something stupid. Like drain the Heir vault and run away with Lucius’ wife.

“Any way he can divert where the trust dividends are deposited?” Zabini asked with narrowed eyes.

Gorluk grinned. “Of course you can do that. You’ll just need the signature of Lucius Malfoy authorizing it.”

“That’s it? Just his signature?” Draco asked. Goblins were tricky. They’d say signature and mean a blood and magic signature, not a quill and parchment.

“That’s it, one lowly signature.”

“No blood? No magic?”

“No blood, no magic required. Just quill and parchment.”

Draco closed his eyes. Could he get Lucius drunk enough to sign something without him knowing?

“What happens after I get his signature. Can he sign something else and re-divert the funds?”

“No, you would have to authorise a redirection of the funds,” Gorluk explained.

“Give me the parchmentwork,” Draco said as a plan began to form in his mind.

* * *

It was remarkably easy to get Lucius to sign the parchmentwork to divert the funds from the trust to the Heir vault. Draco didn’t even have to get him drunk, Lucius did that all on his own and signed the parchment while barely coherent.

In order for Draco’s plan to work the Heir vault had to be tied to other a Gringotts branch in the United States, so signature in hand, he returned to the bank.

“Ah, here we are Mr Malfoy,” Gorluk came back into the office with the appropriate parchmentwork.

“We added a transfer vault to your collection. When it gets below 3,000 galleons, it will replenish from the Heir vault. The transfer vault is available at all Gringotts locations across the globe,” Gorluk informed him.

Draco smiled relieved. He had been somewhat worried when Gorluk had left that Lucius had somehow caught on to what Draco was doing. He thanked Gorluk once more and left Gringotts and Diagon Alley.

Now all he had to do was get him and Princess Hermione out safely. They could lie low for a while, a few months, maybe a year, and Lucius would be so broke and desperate for them to come back, he’d grant Princess Hermione a divorce. Draco didn’t want to think past that point. It would be weird for him to marry his ex-stepmother, right? He shook his head. Of course, it would. He was doing this to not only get out from under Lucius’ thumb but also so he could begin building up the family empire once more. The bonus was that he was taking Princess Hermione with him. He wouldn’t spoil that by asking the what-ifs. He just hoped she was serious. Draco didn’t want to leave her here after having taken the only source of Lucius’ income from him. Thankfully, Zabini had pledged to keep Draco informed of doings in Britain while he was gone, with a special focus of keeping tabs on Lucius.

As soon as he returned to the Manor, Draco started packing. He didn’t plan to take a lot, but it would help to have most of his wardrobe with him. Draco had booked them an international portkey to the States and paid a hefty bribe to keep it as secret as possible. Lucius didn’t have a lot of contacts in that part of the world, and the United States was a big place. It would be easy for them to find a little hamlet to lay low, or a massive city to get lost in. Draco didn’t care. He was more worried that once he got her out, Princess Hermione would leave him. And if that was her choice, he would have to live with it. But he hoped that she’d at least stick with him until he could see his plan through and help her rid herself of Lucius. The goal wasn’t to be gone forever. The goal was to be gone long enough to break Lucius and then come back and fix it all.

“What are you doing?” Princess Hermione said accusingly from the doorway to his room.

Draco turned around guiltily. He hadn’t said anything to her of his plans. They hadn’t spoken since he’d told her he couldn’t get her out. And again, she was wearing a gossamer negligee, in a very pale pink. He wondered if his father demanded it of her. It hadn’t occurred to him until now, but he could see his father demanding something that ridiculous.

“I’m packing,” Draco admitted.

“Vacation?”

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Moving out?”

“Temporarily.”

“Explain.”

“You should pack too. I have an international portkey booked for both of us to New York City tomorrow.” Draco turned back around. Hopefully, that would be enough to intrigue her.

“When is the return?”

“I haven’t booked that yet.”

“I see.” Draco heard the door slam behind her and he breathed a sigh of relief. She made him edgy and nervous. And hard. Painfully hard. He took a deep breath, willing his cock to deflate. Now was not the time.

“Thank you,” she said very quietly from right behind him.

Draco whirled around, she stood before him, completely nude. She’d undressed on her way across the room.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Draco said and attempted to move away from her. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Truly, thank you,” she said. “I —”

“Don’t,” Draco swallowed thickly. “Don’t thank me yet. We aren’t out of here yet.”

She nodded. Then placed her hands on his chest, and began to unbutton his shirt. Draco clenched his jaw. More than anything he wanted to toss her on his bed and ravish her. But, he couldn’t help that sinking feeling in his gut that told him if he did that, they would for sure get caught. He grabbed her hands and held them tight.

“We can’t,” Draco said tightly. “We’re too close to getting out. If we get caught now, Lucius will murder us both.”

“Fine,” Princess Hermione responded. She turned on her heel and flounced out of the room, dressing in her negligee via wandless magic as she went.

Draco heaved a sigh. He really didn’t want to do that. He was hard and going to have to wank before he could concentrate again. But at the same time, it seemed silly to do anything to get them caught now. He only needed one more day. This time tomorrow, they would be halfway across the world. Safe in the States.

* * *

“...is this, Draco?” Lucius demanded.

He was drunk, as he always seemed to be lately and waiving a note from Gringotts informing him that his account was empty.

“I’m sure I don’t know, Father,” Draco replied his heart racing. He had just been about to collect Princess Hermione and leave for the Ministry when Lucius had barged into his room.

“Says there isn’t any money,” Lucius slurred. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head in an obvious attempt to sober up.

“Oh? Have you spent a billion galleons already?” Draco asked with an arched eyebrow. As soon as the words were out, he wanted to bang his head against the wall. How stupid could he be? Lucius for sure would know that Draco knew now. _Idiot. Keep your fucking mouth shut._

“What have you done?” Lucius growled and stumbled closer.

Draco backed away and drew his wand as he began edging toward the door. This was very bad.

“Nothing,” Draco said. “I just stopped by Gringotts last week. Had a very lovely conversation with Gorluk.”

“I’ll kill you. Then the Heir vault will be mine,” Lucius grinned and pointed his wand at Draco’s chest.

“And the Malfoy name dies with you?” Draco asked.

“I’ve got a new wife, son. I’m sure you’ve seen her around. Took away all her clothes,” Lucius’ grin was lascivious and Draco felt sick at the way he’d treated Princess Hermione.

“You’re a fucking monster,” Draco said. “You’d kill your own son? Just for a few galleons?”

“A few million galleons,” Lucius corrected. “And I’m broke. I have debts that need to be paid.”

“No. I’m leaving.” Draco had backed himself to the door and reached behind him to grab the knob. He opened it just as Lucius cast the first curse. Draco ducked and fired back, but Lucius had rolled behind the bed. Suddenly, Draco didn’t have any cover and was a sitting gnome for Lucius. He cast a shielding charm that held up against a few of Lucius’ curses while he tried ducking around the corner of the door.

“Get back here, Draco!” Lucius shrieked from inside Draco’s childhood room. He cast a blasting hex that lifted Draco off his feet and blasted him down the corridor. At some point, Draco hit his head. He was feeling woozy and knew he needed to get up. He had to get up. _Oh, gods, the pain_. Draco’s head felt as if it were splitting open.

“I’ve got this,” a low voice whispered in his ear and he watched as Princess Hermione slipped past him. She slowly disappeared from sight and Draco realized she’d cast a Disillusionment charm over herself.

He saw a flash of red light coming from his bedroom and heard a thump. Princess Hermione reappeared again at his side, busy casting a diagnostic charm over him.

“No concussion,” she murmured.

“We should go,” Draco said as he made to stand. They had to get out before Lucius got back up, but Princess Hermione placed a hand on his chest to keep him still as she read the diagnostics.

“He’s out with a stunner. And I bound him,” she commented, seemingly satisfied with what the diagnostic charms were telling her because she removed her hand and allowed him to sit up.

“Good thinking,” Draco replied as he rubbed the back of his head, there was a lump, but he didn’t feel any stickiness that would indicate blood.

“What time is the portkey?” Princess Hermione asked.

“Two hours,” Draco said. She nodded and helped him to his feet.

* * *

Draco grinned as he looked around the cabin. They were in upstate New York, hiding out in the mountains for the foreseeable future. The cabin was rather small, a single bedroom and bath, and then one large room. The bed was massive, and that’s what had Draco grinning. It was a huge old four-poster and he could imagine tying Princess Hermione up to it as he kissed every inch of skin on her. He hoped she’d be amenable.

“This will do, I suppose,” Princess Hermione commented with a wrinkled nose. It had shocked Draco to find that Princess Hermione was more of a snob than he was.

_“A commercial portkey?” The disdain was heavy in her voice as Draco led them past the private portkey office._

_“What, Princess has never portkeyed with the plebes before?” Draco asked._

_Princess Hermione was currently wearing a light glamor that changed her whisky-colored eyes to a light green and her honey-brown hair to a deep black. She looked striking and nothing like herself._

_“Shut it,” she hissed. “And no, I’m royalty. I-I’ve never actually traveled by portkey.”_

_“I apologize if the accommodations aren’t up to your standards. However, I was working with a short budget and minimal time.” He felt as if he’d fucked up. Of course, she would get away from him as quickly as possible once they landed stateside, he was sure of it._

_“It’s fine, Draco,” Princess Hermione mumbled. “I was just surprised.”_

_He nodded and turned away to open the door to the public international portkey office._

Luckily, Princess Hermione had stuck with him at the hotel in New York City, while he found quieter and cheaper accommodations. The whole point of this was to break Lucius and continue building the Malfoy wealth. Wealth wouldn’t build if he was spending more than he was taking in.

“Well, you’re welcome to leave,” Draco commented lightly. _Gods, he hoped she didn’t take him up on that._

She looked almost alarmed at that thought, “Oh, no I couldn’t. I mean, this is fine. Truly. I was just surprised at how small it is…” she trailed off.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said as he walked through the cabin checking everything out. He could see the bedroom from the open door, but he wanted a closer look.

“There’s only one bed,” Princess Hermione commented.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Draco asked her, arching his eyebrow.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “The couch looks cozy.”

“Feel free to take it then,” Draco said as he plopped himself down on the bed. He laced his hands behind his bed to see if she would take the bait. Which bait, he wasn’t sure.

“Is that really what you want?” she asked in a small voice.

Draco felt like an idiot. _Why does she always make me feel like that?_ He’d offended her. For what seemed like the thousandth time in the last few days.

“Merlin, no!” Draco stood from the bed and walked to her. She was still standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Looking out of place and uncomfortable. “I want you in my bed every night. I want to kiss every inch of skin. And when I’m done with that, I want to lick every inch,” Draco breathed into her ear. He didn’t touch her though. He didn’t want her to feel coerced.

“Promise?” she asked lightly and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Draco growled at the back of his throat and snaked his arms around her waist, drawing her closer.

“Always,” he hissed just before he covered her mouth with his own.

“Good,” she replied when he forced himself from her honeyed lips to kiss down her jaw and neck. “You are _my_ choice.”

Draco hummed his satisfaction. He would have to be fine with that for now. She had chosen him, even if she didn’t have much to choose from originally. He only hoped he would make her happy. Wildly, deliriously happy. He set about doing it right then as he swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed.


End file.
